


Overly friendly psychopath x Determined grudge holder

by Critique_Masochist



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Humor, Inspired by Fanfiction, Love/Hate, M/M, Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Psychopaths In Love, Trust me its cute somehow, Yay :), no you're not the only one who ships this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Critique_Masochist/pseuds/Critique_Masochist
Summary: After the Armagedidn’t, a Duke of Hell and an Archangel meet up to dare each other to do good/evil, it goes south very quickly.





	Overly friendly psychopath x Determined grudge holder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Superfast_Jellybitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superfast_Jellybitch/gifts).



> Dear kaylaber1, you don't know me but I have been watching you sleep.  
> Just kidding. Your fic inspired me to write this. You might not like this fanfic but I just wanted you to know that you are NEVER the only one who ships something XD <3

_Gabriel would make a really great demon_ , or so Hastur thought. There was an inherently creepy vibe to his attitude and this combined with the fact that he was very unempathetic simply made him irredeemably hateable; which would be a huge compliment if Gabriel actually was a demon.

“Am I doing this right?” said angel asked awkwardly, punching his blond criminal half-heartedly.

“No idea.” Hastur replied, equally awkwardly, beating the life out of a black-haired woman without actually beating the life out of her.

The single ceiling lamp lightly shivered lightly due to the unenthusiastic violence happening underneath it. It flickered briefly in confusion when it realized that the crime fighting was being done by a duke of hell and an archangel.

“Do you think this is a part of the ineffable plan?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m the last person to ask that.”

The duke dropped the limp body he was holding and Gabriel got the cue to stop as well. They leaned the two unconscious criminals against a wall and the angel crouched down to tie them up. Surely, restraining evil doers was an act of goodness… but that was hard to say when the guy being tied up had been beaten to a pulp.

“I feel like…” the duke of hell finally said. “Beating up criminals might be more good then evil.”

“I’m pretty sure using fists as an argument is pretty evil.” The archangel pointed out.

“But they are evil. It’s good to teach them a lesson.”

“But isn’t torturing the evil what Lucifer, the father of lies, destroyer of worlds-“

“But those are dead sinners. These are alive. These could still turn good so torturing them might be a good thing, since they might actually change their ways.”

“Oh, fair point.” The angel said, looking down at the sinners in disgust.

Hastur found that he quite liked that particular expression on Gabriel’s face, it suited him well.

The angels up in heaven wouldn’t miss the archangel, there was absolute chaos between the ethereal apparently. A very similar havoc was currently happening in hell which had forced the duke to take a well-deserved holiday on earth, happening across a familiar angel with a similar plan.

“It actually feels pretty good.” Gabriel decided. “To do something dubious, I mean.” He corrected.

Hastur eyed the confident angel suspiciously. “You mean you enjoyed hurting people?”

“Sinners.” He was corrected swiftly.

“Yeah, right.” He allowed himself a chuckle. “I don’t really care who it is I hurt, as long as they vaguely look like that damn Crowley.”

“And this woman looked like that male… how?”

“She was wearing fashionably round sunglasses.”

“Oh, how dare she.” The angel mocked.

“Indeed.” Hastur said, not even sensing the sarcasm.

After all, the angel had bee quite literal up until this point. He had been the one suggesting they do some evil because ‘it appears that the criteria for falling have dropped significantly over the years and I want to punch somebody’.

Hastur had taken it as an excellent opportunity to tempt the angel, because he’d make an utterly excellent ally. However… now he was reconsidering. Evil seemed to be a much more questionable concept up here then it was down in hell.

In hell he just hurt and it was evil, here there was a point to be made for the contrary.

“Hastur.”

“Yes?”

“I have been meaning to ask you something.” The angel said, rather professionally.

“I’m not going to help grandmothers across the street just because you decided to join me in some smacking.” The demon huffed defensively.

“Oh, come now,” Gabriel’s smile spread across his face like wildfire, glowing and terrifying. “you can no longer fall, can you? I highly doubt that hell could do anything about a naughty duke of hell.”

“They could kill me.” Hastur reminded.

“With what holy water?”

“Yours obviously.”

“Not if I deny giving you any.” Gabriel said triumphantly.

“Torture, then.”

The angel’s posture slumped. “This is unfair.”

“It’s Hell.” Hastur reminded.

“No, not that. It’s unfair that I do something evil and you can’t even tempt me to keep going by doing something good for once!”

Hastur rolled his eyes, seeing exactly where the angel was going with this.

“And, I mean think about it! All it would take for me is to just truly sin once and then I would fall, meanwhile you can always say ‘oh I was just drunk that day’ and nobody would fire you! You have a reputation; I doubt anyone would even bat an eye.”

_Tempting. Very tempting. Gabriel would make one hell of a demon._

“Pride would look good on you.” The demon decided.

“And virtue would suit you.”

The duke groaned. “What do you want?”

Gabriel smiled widely. “I would kill to see the duke of hell show kindness to a child.”

An eyebrow was raised with cautious optimism. “Kill? Really?”

“It’s just a figure of speech.” Gabriel shrugged.

_What a tease. Fuck, evil would suit him so well._

Hastur kicked in the door, separating the dim room from the outside world and cringed at the sudden brightness. It wasn’t sunny, per say, but the sun was still vaguely poking its head out from over the thick clouds. It quickly retreated back under its cloudy blanket when the demon hissed at it.

“I can feel a small beating heart calling out from the market place.” The angel noticed.

The duke straightened and took in a deep breath before heading in the market’s general direction, very carefully doing everything in his power not to puke at the thought of what he was about to do. It wasn’t just humiliating; it was against everything he stood for. Still… making an angel fall, he stood for that as well. Especially an archangel. _Especially Gabriel._

It was just too good of an opportunity to miss… despite the virtuous aspects of it.

They angel followed behind him as he arrived at the outside market. Many colourful open tents were surrounding the area and there was the distinct smell of joy in the air, ew. It made it easier to follow the single whiff of misery but the duke still couldn’t help but cough at the damn jolliness in the air.

To say that the angel walked with a beat in his step would be a very crude understatement, rather he hopped around gleefully like some sort of bunny on drugs. Hastur almost smiled. The angel had not changed one bit since the beginning of time.

Gabriel loved him job, whatever his job happened to be at the time. It seemed to not really matter, as long as he was allowed to do whatever the hell he pleased. And this was a sacrifice worth taking since the archangel was a hard and brilliant worker. Ruthless and cruel and sadistic and oh so ironically kind.

 _A true psychopath_ , Hastur thought fondly. Just like he had been in the old days.

It had been a terrible disappointment to know that even after 6000 years, Gabriel had never answered his true calling. He was made to be evil, made to be hated and feared and yet he stupidly denied the offer every time Hastur presented him with it.

‘I like being on top.’ He had told him once, which had infuriated the duke terribly.

He was CLEARLY not being literal; he was just a BLOODY ASSHOLE. And Hastur loved him for it. Had always loved him for it. The devilish angel, it wouldn’t be a sin to find him attractive. He simply wasn’t an angel. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and Hastur had x ray vision.

The duke reconsidered this thought when Gabriel handed him a crying brat. Probably aged 5 or under, this child wasn’t ready to sin at all, especially not in this condition. He was sobbing miserably and his trousers were torn, exposing a bit of blood.

Tripped, the poor idiot.

“Where’s his _mommy_ , Hastur?” the angel beamed.

_Oh, fuck you hard._

“You better do something equally opposing.” Hastur sneered.

“Of course, you do a good and I do a bad. That’s the deal.” Gabriel claimed. Hastur didn’t seem very convinced so he added “I’m an angel, I wouldn’t lie.”

“You better not be lying about this and then claiming that lying was sufficiently bad.” Hastur hissed.

“I promise not to do that.” The devil said innocently.

With a deep and long sigh, the demon considered the child before him. Dark black hair, like the lady from before who no longer had a functioning nose, and with red teary eyes; the child was just the picture of innocence. Reluctantly, he picked it up and tossed it over his shoulder, shooting the angel a questioning glance.

‘Now what?’ his eyes said.

‘Oh, don’t you know?’ the angels smile said.

‘I’m a demon how the fuck am I supposed to know how to help a CHILD?’ Hasturs glare said.

‘Well, I prefer to watch people struggle rather then offer them my guidance.’ Gabriel suggested, smiling wider than ever.

‘I want to bend you over and have my way with you.’ The middle finger was meant to convey but that was not how Gabriel had taken it, obviously.

Gleefully, the grown angel followed as they searched the area for the lost parent. A mother, who was apparently careless enough to forget about her crying child. Hastur didn’t blame her, the brat was insufferable; kicking and screaming.

“Let me go!!” the child yelled.

“I’m trying to help.” The demon sighed, more so at the fact that he wasn’t lying rather than at the child.

“You stink!”

“What stinks is your attitude.” He shot back.

“I hate you!!”

“Good!” the duke almost smiled. “Hate is very good. You should try and feel it more often.”

“What??” the child stopped kicking, genuinely confused. “You talk like Black-Fighter.”

“Who the Hell is black fighter?

And suddenly, the child’s hatred turned into adoration as it began to tell the tale of his favourite TV shows ‘epic villain’ Black fighter.

It. Was. Agony.

Never before had a demon wanted to kill a child this much, yet had refused to do so! Black fighter sucked, not only was she terribly cliché but she was also actually insultingly similar to Hastur personality-wise. He groaned as the child mentioned how she would yell at her own dogs in order to train them to be vicious.

The archangel was still pursuing them, too far behind to get a good glance at his face. Hastur had no godamn clue how he was reacting to all of this; probably fiendishly snickering at the demon’s utter embarrassment, but he wasn’t sure.

“And she also has these beautiful black eyes!” the child boasted, the smell of misery fading away completely.

“Beautiful??” the demon groaned. “Look. Kid, look, what does your mother look like; other than a worried mess.”

“Oh, she has short red hair.”

“Short red hair.” The demon scoffed.

“Hastur, no.” a voice behind him seemed to say.

_Hastur no. Don’t beat up the redhead for putting you through this damn trouble. Bloody angel…_

Finally, FIALLY after an hour of searching and a few conversations with security and shop owners, the mother was found!

She was a very busy looking businesswoman who still clearly and showed disgusting care towards the lost child, making it promise to yell her name the next time he lost her in the crowd.

Hastur turned away from the awful display of affection the mother theatrically demonstrated, _utterly despicable_.

Gabriel was still there, looking very pleased with himself.

“You better keep your promise, fuckface.”

“Oh, I-“

“Goodbye!” the child yelled as he was being dragged into a car by his mother. “Goodbye Black-Fighter!”

“Shut up!” the demon yelled.

“Thank you!” the child answered, giving him an approving thumbs up.

Hastur scoffed and returned his attention to the angel.

“As you were saying?”

??

Gabriel’s face had twisted into the most stunning hateful scorn the demon had ever laid eyes upon. And it got even better; he was glaring at the small child!

“That kid has some guts thanking a villain.” He spat out. “ _Utterly despicable.”_

Hastur almost gasped.

“Anyhow.” The angel continued, combing his hand through his hair and meticulously fixing his attitude into something more angelic. “What do you want me to do in return?”

The demon barely hesitated. “Kiss me.”

The angel processed the request briefly, his expression turning from professional consideration to surprise to something red and strange that Hastur couldn’t really define. It was definitely a submissive expression though and the demon grinned widely.

Both hands raised, Gabriel backed away. “You cannot be serious.” He said, his voice shaking.

“It would be less sinful then murder.” The demon shrugged. “And it feels like we would be even.”

Gabriel folded his arms defensively. “But you’re a demon.”

“That’s the point.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could.”

“It would be…”

“A middle finger to HER, yes.”

Gabriel’s lip twitched into a smile briefly. “No… no, why? Why kiss YOU?”

“What about me?” Hastur asked, trying to make it sound teasing rather than genuine.

“Not really my type.” The angel said.

“I don’t usually kiss angels either.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s a good deal though, since it would be equally as bad if I got caught with this. For you it’s a double win, get me to do good and then risk my reputation.”

Gabriel seemed to blush at the excellent suggestion, the way a murderous psychopath would when hearing that his partner had tied up not one but two young ponies to murder.

“Your call.” Hastur said.

Gabriel hesitated.

He sighed.

“I’m not drunk enough for this."

The angel hadn’t exactly known what places sold alcohol, allowing the duke to guide him into the darkest, creepiest bar that he knew. It was just unknown enough to ensure that no ethereal or occult being would find them and just uncomfortable enough to make the angel uneasy.

“Why do you even want to kiss me? It’s quite the risk.” Gabriel asked.

He was trying to be professional, trying to be his usual confident self but the fact that he was feeling out of place here.

Everything around them was old fashioned wood, which would have been fine if it wasn’t so dirty. The angel wouldn’t have been surprised if he had learned that a group of horse sized cockroaches had raided it mere moments ago.

“You’re like a trophy, I suppose.” The demon shrugged, finishing his whiskey.

“A trophy? Is that all I am to you?” the angel scoffed and then blushed, realizing that that had not exactly sounded the way he had intended.

The demon grinned gleefully.

Gabriel had not realized this yet, but Hastur had officially started a subtle power play, which was a big part of demon courting. The idea behind it was, of course, that if we are going to fuck then I’m going to be the one fucking _you_. Hell at it’s finest; making everything into a competition to be the biggest asshole.

“You’d have to try a lot harder to be anything more than that.” He said, devaluing his companion. “Now finish your drink.”

It was an order. An order that the angel reluctantly obeyed. His face crunched up at the bitter taste of the cheap whiskey, a delightful sight for sure.

“Why-“ and he coughed. “Why does Aziraphale like this stuff anyway? Alcohol. It’s disgusting!”

“It has a nice aftereffect. You just have to drink enough of it and wait.”

“But it reeks of sin and it’s not even enjoyable.” The archangel got up with a huff.

He didn’t feel safe here at all. It was almost as if he’d been dragged into some sort of trap and he did not appreciate it one bit… however, it was his fault that he had ended up in this situation.

A promise was a promise… and no way would he be able to pull off kissing the disgusting stinky demon before him without some sort of external help.

“How about some vodka instead.” The duke gently tapped the angels glass and the liquid turned clear.

“What about vodka?” without sitting back down, he gave it a sip. Approvingly, he sat back down.

“Not as bad, huh?”

“Better.”

“I should have known that you would prefer vodka. It’s a girly drink, after all.”

The angel glared at him, sending delightful shivers down Hastur’s spine.

This was going well… It would probably all fall apart at some point but for the Moment the archangel seemed to be enjoying drinking vodka like water. This would be _fun_.

A soft chuckle escaped Gabriel’s lips. “Alright, I think I’m starting to understand the whole after-effect thing now. Why do people drink this stuff, again?”

It sounded like a genuine question. Like he didn’t know. Possible, angels were generally rather clueless.

“To relax, usually. You do seem a bit tense.” He teased.

“Well, I’m not.” The angel claimed.

Oh nooo, he had figured it out. Hastur allowed his grin to widen. Now they were both playing the same game, now things would get really interesting.

“I wouldn’t blame you. It must just be tearing you up inside to see Heaven in such a chaotic state.” The demon said, faking empathy and placing his hand over the archangels. “And after all the work you’ve put into it. That must be exhausting.”

The angel pulled his hand away, eyeing Hastur suspiciously. A clear indicator that the demon had been spot on.

“It’s rewarding work.” He claimed. “They will respect me a lot more, once this is all over. I seem to be the only one not losing my mind, after all. Er-“

He stopped, looking over at the demon before him and blushing.

“You’re not losing your mind.” The demon reassured. “You’re just in a different position then them. They have the luxury of blaming their higher-ups. You can only blame HER and I can imagine how hard that must be on you.”

“Silence, demon.”

Hastur obliged, much to the angels surprise. Gabriel was getting really worried now, probably feeling rather cornered but not threatened enough to strike back either.

_Delightful._

Fucking with the king of assholes, Hastur would have never imagined it would be so easy.

“And what about you?” the angel shot back. “Admit it, you’re in a tight spot as well. If heaven is in the state that it is then I cannot imagine Hell.”

“Hell will sort itself out.” Hastur claimed, faking confidence. “Drink up. Relax. We’re both in the same boat, Gabriel.”

Gabriel did, chugging down the second glass of vodka. Hastur decided that, after the third he would like the angel a lot more.

“You actually like me, don’t you?” the angel said, after an innumerable amount of alcohol.

Hastur realized he was gently stroking the angel’s hand and stopped immediately, sobering up a bit.

“You do!” Gabriel beamed with his smile stretching just a bit too far.

“I was just teasing.” The demon claimed.

“Yeah right. That’s why you agreed to help a child. Because you were just teasing. Give it up Hastur, I know what you’re trying to do here.”

His name had sounded quite delightful coming from that particular angel, in that particular tone. But, no, what was he thinking?! He was losing power, which was what he was SUPPOSED TO BE avoiding. Being outsmarted by an angel? No duke of Hell could live with that shame.

“You’re a defect angel, why would I like you?”

“You’re the defect one if you like me.”

The smugness of the angel was so overpowering that even his vodka turned a pinkish colour in embarrassment.

_Fuck_ , the duke thought. And he decided to change his plans. Overpowering wasn’t working, maybe charm and flattery would go a long way in weakening Gabriel’s defences.

“What’s not to like.” He admitted. “There’s a devilish nature to everything you do and it makes you terribly efficient. I am honoured to have you as my enemy.”

Gabriel’s smugness increased. “Now Demons love me too? I was getting enough love up there!”

“I doubt you were getting enough _love_.” The demon teased. “Do you know when I decided that I liked you?”

The angel seemed confused.

“The day I fell. I had never seen an angel be so delighted at a fallen’s suffering. Gabriel you’re the most insufferable person I’ve ever met and the biggest reason of why I am happy to have rebelled against HER. Because SHE approves of YOU.”

If Hastur had told something similar to a demon, they would have taken it as a ridiculously fancy compliment. A hatred so deep, a grudge held for so long… it was intoxicating. Any occult being would have given into Hastur’s advances immediately.

Gabriel was **not** a demon.

He stood up and grabbed the Duke by the collar.

_Oh, yes, be rough with me._

A slight giggle escaped the Duke, a clear sign that he was still pretty drunk. Gabriel hadn’t sobered up either, he needed an excuse for why he had bashed a demon’s skull in in public.

Then he bashed the demon’s skull in in public, or at least, he tried to. Hastur was no easy to kill. Things quickly escalated into a fistfight, sending the dirty bartender running into a back room and covering, for the punches being flung around weren’t human. They were clearly supernatural, leaving holes in the walls and breaking through the tables.

The two didn’t hold back anymore, didn’t pity their opponent and didn’t play by earths rules. They fought until they were both bloody, panting messes.

“Every good drinking session,” Hastur said. “ends in a barfight. It was a pleasure.”

Gabriel was surprised but then he laughed. “Hastur, you’re… ugh.”

He leaned in and kissed the demon.

It was so sudden, so out of nowhere and the demon had been so relaxed after a satisfying punchout that he melted into the touch, not even caring when Gabriel gently leaned him against a table to get a better angle.

The angel was warm and sweaty and his mouth was filled with blood and Hastur decided that this was the most tasteful kiss he had ever shared. He even let out a whimper when Gabriel finally pulled away.

“You think SHE approves of me.” he paused. “I do not approve of her.”

And much to the demons surprise they went back to kissing.

Gabriel really seemed to enjoy pushing the demon into the table with as much force as possible. It hurt but Hastur liked the fact that it hurt. It was a good kind of defeat.

**_Oh, fuck he was being topped by an angel._ **

“Get off.” The demon hissed before escaping Gabriel’s clutches.

The archangel laughed wholeheartedly, which pissed Hastur off even more. Aw fuck he hated this angel. _He hated him so much._

“I suppose our deal is complete, then.” Gabriel said, fixing his clothing and miracle-ing the blood away.

“I suppose so.” Hastur realized.

There was a moment of silence as the two of them sobered up completely.

“You free on Monday?” Hastur finally asked.

“More sin?”

“All of the sin.”

“I get to sit on you?”

The demon let out an angry growl which didn’t phase the angel at all.

“Fine.”


End file.
